


fireflies

by kuroopaisen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A little bit of fluff, F/M, Japanese Mythology AU, but mostly soft angst, inspired by neverwhere and after dark, yokai!kuroo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroopaisen/pseuds/kuroopaisen
Summary: there are people who fall between the cracks, finding themselves stuck in a world halfway between this one and beyond. kuroo doesn’t want you to face it alone.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/You
Kudos: 35





	fireflies

The city is ageless. It’s a visual cacophony of neon and ramshackle, a collection of buildings tightly packed along skinny alleyways. A wide asphalt road runs through it all like a great river, often glittering under streetlights on rainy evenings. Human beings don’t walk this in-between world that exists between the cracks. But the otherworldly do.

Kuroo used to be afraid of the dark. These days, the night brings him comfort. The night means he gets to exist, slipping through alleyways and hopping across rooftops. The moonlight touches his skin in a way the sun no longer can, whispering him into life on the asphalt. 

It’s not the life he wants, but he makes do. He’s not sure how long he’s been here. He knows next to nothing of his life before this endless night. Just whispers. 

But he’s certain he couldn’t produce these little fires back then. They gather around him like the loose clouds that blot out the stars. 

He enjoys his little cloud, specks of light so small and inconsistent they look like fireflies, hovering around him like he’s the centre of their world. 

These little fireflies dance around him as he watches you across the street.

It’s not the first time Kuroo sees you. He has no grasp on time — not truly — but he remembers your face. He remembers how sad you looked, pacing around the street of an evening, hood pulled over your head. He remembers the apathy hiding underneath. 

It’s an apathy onset by exhaustion, more than anything else. An apathy that’s the result of caring too much for too long, from losing yourself to the dread.

It is only his second time seeing you, but your expression struck him so deeply that he couldn’t help but remember your face. It has been a long time since he’s seen such raw, human emotion. A long time since he’s seen anything sincere. That evident misery of yours carries more significance than you could possibly know. 

Kuroo sees himself in you. The numbness lying beneath your melancholy is as familiar to him as the streets and alleys of this city. What is the purpose of being so numb? He wonders that often. The answer is always something about survival; to be numb is the only way you can live with yourself in the face of unending insignificance. If this truly is purgatory, then it would be wise not to feel anything at all.

Maybe you’re like him. Or, maybe you’re more human. 

Perhaps he’s reading too much into it. It could be the boredom getting to him. There’s not much to entertain himself with out here, as much as he makes his own fun. Maybe it’s best to leave you alone.

But ah, the curiosity is too much.

He waves a hand through his cloud, catching some fireflies in his palm. He blows them your way as a little greeting. Only a handful, a little embassy of light reflecting on the barren asphalt. He can’t control them very well — they always seem to go the opposite direction of where he wants them to go, always sink a little too close to the ground — but with the sheer force of his will they float towards your chest. 

It’s hard to see from the other side of the street, but he swears your eyes follow them. 

But he wonders. He hopes. He follows. 

Not too obviously; he knows he’s a tall guy, and that makes him scarier than most. And truth be told, he’s not sure how human he looks these days. There were no mirrors in the city; only reflections found in windows, half-whispers of the truth. 

“Stop following me.” Your voice is low, as if you’re not sure your words would reach him. 

Kuroo raises his eyebrows, perfect, delighted surprise on his face. 

You can see him. 

“Are you okay?”

“Go away,” you say, your voice slightly louder this time. 

You can hear him. 

“Please,” he murmurs, reaching a hand for your shoulder. “Tell me—”

You turn, slapping his hand away. The feeling echoes through his arm. 

You can touch him. 

“I said, _go away_.” 

Kuroo stares at you for a moment, trying to take in as much of you as he could. You look young. Maybe just younger than he had once been. Your skin is dull, your eyes distant, your hair lifeless. You look like someone who hasn’t slept in a very long time. You’re clad in a hoodie about three times your size, paired with jeans and ragged trainers. You look like the sort of person one would expect to find wandering the city at night, inoffensive to the point of being forgettable. Kuroo almost believes he’s made a mistake and that you’re not like him at all. 

It’s your scent that gives you away. You smell like burnt toast.It’s not the most pleasant smell, but he won’t knock you for it. He smells much the same, after all. 

“When was the last time you went home?” He asks, looking you straight in the eye. It’s not the best conversation starter, but he hopes it’ll strike some chord. 

You frown. “Fuck off.” You turn around and begin to skulk off. 

“Please,” he swallows, catching up to you with a few long strides, “it’s important.” 

Scowling, you pull your hood over your eyes, hands digging into your pockets as you pick up your pace. 

Kuroo curses, speeding up as well. “I can help you.”

Your step falters. 

He gulps, slowing to a stop. “I know that you can’t find your way home.”

You take another step down the street. 

He doesn’t know what to say. But he wants to get through to you. To offer a hand. 

“You’re probably scared, and, and… overwhelmed, and…” 

A deep breath. And then, words he wishes someone had said to him. 

“You don’t have to do this alone.” 

✧ ✧ ✧

“I can’t sleep at night,” you say softly, “but as soon as the sun rises, it’s like I fall into some sort of coma.” You shiver as you speak, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Nothing can wake me up.” 

Kuroo resists the urge to put an arm around you. 

“That happened to me, too,” he nods, biting his lip. “Eventually I got evicted, but it didn’t really matter at that point. I couldn’t remember sleeping, let alone paying my rent.”

Kuroo realises how silly that statement sounds, but the look you give him tells him you understand. 

The only memories of his life before are braided with the city, with the feeling of losing himself. There are no names, no details, no dreams. There are some faces, but they’re transparent as ghosts. 

“I just…” You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. It’s hard. He can tell. “I just don’t know what to do.” 

He looks at you, tired and sick as you are. You’re afraid. Lonely. Directionless. 

He knows. He’s been there. In many ways, he’s still there. If there is comfort to be found in this strange underworld, he has not yet found it. But, perhaps he can offer it. 

“Just stick with me,” he smiles at you as best he could, hoping the warmth reached his eyes. 

You gaze at him for a long moment, your eyebrows slightly pinched. He understands if you don’t trust him; it’s smart not to, given the circumstances. You were alone, somewhere you didn’t understand. He wouldn’t begrudge you for that. 

“Where am I?” You ask. The words are frail, the question one you’re afraid of. 

Kuroo swallows, unable to meet your gaze. “I don’t know, actually. I just know it’s… strange. And that the people here aren’t human.” 

“Are you human?” You’re quick to ask that question. 

He grins at you. “As far as I know.” 

You bite your lip, looking up at the sky. It’s paler than it was when the two of you first sat down in this little alleyway. He knows there isn’t much time left this evening. 

“That’s enough for me, I guess,” you sigh, closing your eyes. 

He hopes that, at least, brings you some comfort. 

✧ ✧ ✧

“Those cats are walking on their hind legs.” 

“Uh huh,” Kuroo nods, a smile playing at his lips. “Because they’re not cats.”

You turn to him, frowning. 

“I know,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t know what they are, to be honest. I just know they’re not cats.” 

You sit on the roof of a convenience store, elevated just high enough to see a little clearer. A few nights ago, you wouldn’t have been so bold. 

The not-cats move across the powerline like it’s a tightrope, one paw in front of the other as they skitter along with perfect balance. They are too far away and the night is too dark for you to see them clearly, those vaguely feline shadows against the purple sky. The flashes of red that you guess to be their eyes don’t frighten you. Not while Kuroo sits next to you. 

You still don’t know if you trust him. That’s half a lie; you _do_ trust him. You just don’t know if it’s wise to. But it didn’t take you long to realise that this is the world you live in now. 

You had once believed that nobody else existed here in this strange half-awake place. You’d thought it was just you and him. But others flit by now, both frightened and frightening. Even if it’s against your better judgement, you feel safe with him. 

One of the not-cats pauses on a pole, its tail straight as an arrow. It holds an upturned paw in front of its little snout and blows air across it. 

A ghostly little fireball swirls in the air, illuminating the not-cat’s face for the first time. 

You straighten up, tilting your head at this new peculiarity. 

“Look!” You gasp, patting Kuroo’s arm. “They’re like you.” 

He grins. He’s glad for the curiosity in your eyes. “Not quite.” 

He waves his hand and a scatter of fireflies burst into life. They envelop the two of you, a gentle swathe of light falling across your bodies. They’re only little, like white candle flames floating through the air. 

“Yours look like the stars,” you murmur, reaching out to touch them. Your fingertip brushes against one, its warmth spreading through your finger as it disperses. 

“Mhm,” Kuroo nods. Sometimes, if he is lucky, he gets a glimpse of the real thing in the blackest of nights. Most of the time, the sky plays host to nothing but the moon; a pallid, hollow-cheeked watcher, who never waxes nor wanes. 

No, those little ghostly fireballs look something like the moon. Or perhaps the sun. 

You can’t quite recall what the sun feels like. 

✧ ✧ ✧

“Shouldn’t we help him?” 

A small, scrawny child stands in the middle of the road, a straw hat drawn low over their eyes. You and Kuroo stand in an alleyway across the street, huddled together for warmth. 

Kuroo grins. He should’ve expected you’d react like this, your eyes all wide and full of compassion as you watch the child. “Just watch.”

You look up at him, eyes betraying both concern and confusion. He nods at the child, reaching to ruffle your hair. 

You blush, looking away from him quickly. 

The child approaches the bottle shop, each step taken with great deliberation. It glances over its shoulder, and you catch a flash of its eyes. Bright, clever, sharp. A bit like Kuroo’s. 

The child slips through the glass doors, tottering up to the attendant at the front desk. 

You watch through the glass, poking your head out of the alley. 

The child holds its hand out, standing on its tiptoes to be more level with the attendant. The man in question looks deeply unamused; an exhausted replica of a scowl lines his face, and he crosses his arms over his broad chest. 

The man peers at the child, eyes narrowing. He says something. 

_Poof!_

Where there once stood a child in a straw hat now stands an otter in a straw hat that is far too big for its head. 

It turns on its tail and flees, the man shouting after it. But, he does not pursue it, letting it skitter off into the night. 

The otter scampers down the asphalt road, the sound of its claws scratching against the rough surface.

Kuroo whistles. The otter skids to an abrupt stop, whipping its head around as its whiskers twitch. 

Kuroo grins, holding out a flask you didn’t even realise he had. The otter scuttles forward on all fours. You realise, perhaps with more surprise than is warranted, that it’s rather cute. 

“Where were you keeping that?” You frown, tilting your head at him. 

Kuroo grins, ruffling your hair. You blush. You’re still growing used to this close proximity between the two of you. 

“Why give it to an otter?” You scoff. 

“Not an otter,” Kuroo smiles. “But, think of it as payment. For the entertainment.” 

You smile, shaking your head. 

He’s relieved. It’s the first time he’s seen your face soften like that. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The streets are full of ghosts. 

And yet, it’s the first time the city has felt truly alive. 

You watch them pass with wonder. 

There is a woman, donning only a blood-stained skirt and an expression of anguish. Another boasts the same look of despair, only this one has no feet, drifting above the ground with arms held out and wrists limp, long blcack hair trailing behind her. Men stalk the streets in golden _Heian_ robes with nothing but pure vengeance in their eyes. 

There are others too. Red trolls roam the street, clad only in tiger skin loincloths and weidling iron clubs. A group of the otters from before totters down the street, straw hats balancing precariously on their heads. Those bipedal cats bolt across rooftops and hop along power lines. 

All these spirits mill about, some mingling, others avoiding everyone else with a certain perseverance. A few slip through doorways and windows, and you wonder if they’re visiting their descendants. You hope that’s all they’re doing. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, dodging a demon as it barrels down the street. 

Kuroo shrugs. “Not entirely sure. But I think it’s some kind of festival.”

“A festival?” You look up at him, your hands dug deep in your pockets. You can’t imagine just how scared you’d be if he wasn’t with you. Honestly, you’re not sure what would’ve happened to you. If you’d even be standing here. 

Kuroo nods. “I think so.” 

He looks up and down the street, a bemused smirk on his face. “Although, they could’ve organised some stalls.”

“I don’t think ghosts have much use for street food,” you hum.

He chuckles, ruffling your hair. “I guess we have to make our own fun, huh?”

You huff as you raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m not giving any more whisky to those otters.”

“Oh, come on.” He nods back at the street with a grin. “What else are we gonna do? Tie that guy’s robe up?”

You look at the man in question. It was one of those men, the ones who look as if they’re devoured by vengeance.

“I don’t think that’s the greatest idea,” you shake your head, shuddering at the thought. Could ghosts hurt you now, in this in-between world?

“What about that guy?” He says, pointing at one of the red trolls. “We could steal his club.”

“I do _not_ want to get on that guy’s bad side,” you say, looking up at Kuroo with a hint of fear in your eyes.

“Live a little!” He grins, poking your cheek.

You pout at him. That only makes his grin grow wider. 

He turns his attention to the procession in front of you, his grin turning devilish. “Do you think ghosts have money?”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“I’m just _saying_ ,” he groans, stepping into the procession without warning. You dash to keep up with him.

“What would you even buy with it?” You ask, falling into step with him – which is easier said than done, considering the length of his legs.

He shrugs. “I dunno. Might be nice to give the guy at the bottle shop real money for once.”

“But it’d be ghost money,” you consider. “Wouldn’t that be cursed?”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Like you don’t know for sure that it’s _safe_.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head. “How have I managed to stay on my own two feet without you, huh?”

You blush, your face suddenly feeling very hot. “It’s a miracle you haven’t gotten yourself killed.”

“I’ve still got time.”

“Don’t joke about that!” You hiss, elbowing in the side. “That’s a bit insensitive given our companions, isn’t it?”

He laughs again. It might not be the prettiest sound, but it’s one you’re rather fond of. “Glad to know you’re that concerned about me.”

There are things you want to say, sitting at the back of your throat. Things like, ‘I’d be so lonely if it weren’t for you,’ and ‘I don’t know if I would’ve been able to find my way if it weren’t you,’ or ‘I don’t know if I would’ve ever smiled again if it weren’t for you.’

But you say none of that. You keep those close to your chest. Maybe you’ll tell him, but not tonight. 

You merely gaze at him. 

He looks different. Sharper, maybe. Or perhaps, you just haven’t paid enough attention to him before. 

“What?” He grins, catching your eye. 

You look away quickly, heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Nothing.” 

He grins, leaning down so his face is level with yours. “You sure?” 

You glare at him, hoping your cheeks won’t betray how flustered you really are. 

“Just teasing,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. 

Your instinct is to roll your eyes, even if that’s not what you _really_ want to do. But you won’t think about that. Not right now. 

Kuroo’s already heading down the street, looking over his shoulder at you with a wild grin. “You coming?”

You tilt your head at him. He nods at the sky, a familiar glint in his eye. You scamper after him with your hands dug in your pockets. The two of you thread through the alleyways, finding your way towards your typical route to the rooftops. It’s almost second-nature now, but you could swear that Kuroo has a more natural talent for it. Perhaps it is just because his legs are so damn long. 

As always, he hops onto the rooftop of the convenience store before you, grinning down at the street below. You pout at him, trying your best to tug on his heartstrings; just like you always do. 

He offers you a hand. You take it, and he pulls you up. The two of you clamper across the rooftop, sitting yourselves down on the edge. Your legs dangle off the side as you look down at the informal procession thin out below you. 

You sit in comfortable silence, letting the world pass the two of you by. You can feel it, in this rare moment; peace. That sense of relief in knowing you’re not alone. In knowing there are still things to smile about. 

You know it’s because of the boy sitting next to you. Of the warmth he brings you in this city of ghosts. 

There is so much you want to say to him. So much you can’t put into words. But as you look up at the pale sky, you know that now is not the time. 

The moon is setting. You think you’ll always dread this moment. 

“Kuroo?” You murmur, laying your head on his shoulder. 

“Hm?” 

“Can you make some fireflies, please?” Your voice is so gentle, carried away by the light that bleeds across the horizon. 

He nods, holding a hand out. These days, he can’t say no to you. 

✧ ✧ ✧

You hadn’t expected to build half a life. 

And yet here you are, sitting in an abandoned apartment, next to something of an apartment. 

It’s a life half-lived, harbouring in abandoned places, rifling through the trash for scraps of this and that. People throw out perfectly good furniture, you discovered. Perfectly good food, too. 

At the end of the day, you’re just grateful for the shelter. Grateful for the comfort he brings you in this strange underworld. 

Kuroo is grateful for the fantasy. He’s grateful for the fact that sometimes, he can let his mind wander, take him on a journey through the life you could have shared together, should things have been different. A life spent in the sun, full of people and laughter and purpose. 

He wonders, most of all, about what you would look like, under the sun’s gentle warmth. How breathtaking you would be. 

He tells you none of this. He harbours those feelings for himself, for the most part. But he suspects that you feel the same. 

You hold hands, now. He can’t remember when it started, but he’s glad it did. 

The two of you sit at the window, rain pelting against fractured glass as the sky bellows. 

Light splits the sky, and for a second Kuroo almost believes it’s daytime. 

A creature springs to life on a rooftop. It’s wolf-like, its pale blue fur crackling with white light. There’s something majestic about it, gleaming amongst rundown rooftops and dodgy power lines. 

Another crack of light, and a second creature joins the first. They glance at each other for a moment, bowing their heads low. And then, they sprint off. 

He chances a look at you. You’re enamoured, eyes bright and full of curiosity as you watch the wolves bound across the rooftops. 

He smiles as he watches you, unable to hold back his fondness. You’ve brought him such joy, such _comfort_ , without even knowing it. No matter how frightened he is, how matter how much he feels like things are slipping away from him, you bring him solace. 

You look at him, tilting your head to the side. There’s such tenderness in your face, such sincere affection. Maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way he does. 

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. You freeze, but you’re not afraid. It’s soft, and its warmth spreads through you much like his fireflies do. 

He pulls away, eyes unbearably fond as he looks at you. 

You laugh, a new, welcome feeling beating in your chest. “Why did you do that?”

“It felt right,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You laugh again, shifting to face him properly. 

He thinks it’s a beautiful sound. One he wishes he could hear more often. One he wishes he could hear for a long time coming. Longer than he would, at least. 

You kiss him, hands coming up to cup his face. He relaxes into it, much like any human would. 

He wants to lose himself in this. In you. In this little moment of human intimacy. 

But he’s changing. He can feel it. He’s been dreaming. How, he’s not sure. But in each and every one, he’s a fox. 

He doesn’t know what the dreams mean. But he feels, deep in the part of him that will always be human, that these dreams are a warning. An echo of what’s to come. 

He’s only just found you, only just begun to love you. 

He doesn’t notice the little fireflies popping into existence around you, punctuating the dark with each beat of his heart. They’re bigger than before. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The stars are out. 

It’s a rare sight in this city, which is so bright and vibrant that it tends to blot out the night sky. But tonight, you can see it in all its glory. 

The two of you sit at the window of your apartment, faces turned to the sky. 

“Do you know any of the constellations?” You ask, turning to him with bright eyes. 

Kuroo smiles and shakes his head. “None of the official ones. But it’s fun making them up.”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head at him. 

He looks tired. He’s been acting it, too. Quiet. Reticent. Distant. There’s something unreachable about him that’s never been there before. 

“Point some out to me,” you ask, desperate for anything to fill the silence. 

Kuroo leans closer to the window, running a hand through his hair. 

“Well, that’s a cat,” he says, pointing to one cluster of stars.

If you squint, you can almost see it. 

“And that’s a dick,” he chuckles, pointing to something on the other side of the sky. 

“Very mature of you.”

He ignores you, dragging his finger across the sky to point at the brightest star of all.

“And that’s you,” he grins, turning to look at you. 

“Shut up,” you huff, knocking him with your elbow. 

“Aw, are you all embarrassed?” He snickers, reaching over and ruffling your hair. 

“You’re so cheesy.” 

“I thought you liked it when I was cheesy.”

“When have I _ever_ given you any indication of that?” 

He answers your question with a kiss. His lips smile against yours, and you believe, for a moment, that everything will be okay. 

He pulls away from you too soon, an unreadable look in his eyes. 

“Hey, Tetsu?” You murmur as you bring a hand to his cheek. 

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?” You ask, smoothing your thumb over his cheekbone. 

“I’m fine,” he smiles at you as best he can. But even he knows it’s not enough. 

“I’m worried about you.” 

A horrible silence thickens between the two of you, and the fear rooting itself in your chest is starting to blossom. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” You know there isn’t much you can do in this place between the cracks. But whatever you can do, you will. He’s done so much for you after all. 

His gaze is distant, as if he’s looking at something just beyond you. 

You want to say something — anything. But you don’t know what. You don’t know how to reach him. 

He spreads his legs, patting the floor between them. 

You frown, but you sit on it nonetheless. You turn your back to him for comfort’s sake, wondering what on earth he is getting at. 

He wraps his arms around you, propping his chin on the top of your head as you fall back into his chest. 

“Can we just… stay here a while?” He asks, something very strange, very unfamiliar in his voice. It sounds a bit like regret. 

“Okay.” You comply. 

He’s warm, his arms firm as he holds you close to him. He holds you like he never wants to let go; like if he did, that would be the end. 

That, more than anything else, frightens you.

This wonderful boy, this man who has done all he can to bring you light and joy, is scared of something. Something he doesn’t want to admit to you. You try to glance up at him, but you can’t see his face. 

You bite your lip, casting your eyes to the window once more. 

The moon is setting, and daylight is bleeding through the sky. 

There is no way to know what the next evening will bring. 

✧ ✧ ✧

You’re alone. 

All that’s left are the fireflies, stronger and brighter than before. 

You can’t find the tears. 

But you cry anyway. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The city is ageless. It has changed much, and yet it hasn’t changed at all. It writhes with something deeper, something darker than what meets the eye. 

Someone new is here. A girl, afraid, alone, frightened. 

But she is not alone. 

On the other side of the street, a figure is bent over, hand held flat with an inarizushi sitting in it. A fox eats it eagerly, its fur glistening with something otherworldly. 

The girl wonders if she should approach, if she should ask something, anything. 

You don’t notice the girl on the other side of the street. You are far too focused on the kitsune in front of you, your mind cycling through the same few thoughts. 

You wonder how long it will be until you see the fireflies again. 

You wonder if you’ll still remember him. 


End file.
